Sunday
by 815
Summary: You used to make fun of him. — Chouji


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Naruto, etc.

**Summary:** You used to make fun of him. ( Chouji )

* * *

Akimichi Chouji died on a Sunday.

He had his funeral on a Monday.

The two remaining members of Team 10 are not at the funeral. They are not seen for the whole day during the funeral. A few days later, there's one person who said that he saw the two on the rooftop watching the clouds all day.

The two of them cried on Sunday. Their tears were gone on Monday.

Days of the week tick down one by one.

* * *

You are present at the funeral, however.

Almost everyone in Konoha is.

In the corner you can see the Hyuugas standing side by side – a mass of brown-haired ninjas with piercing white eyes. Nearby you can see that Kyuubi boy and that pink-haired girl sitting on a tree. The girl is twirling a kunai in her hands, distracted. The boy has his fists clenched and you can't see his face.

You know he's probably trying to hide his tears.

However, you shift your weight from your right leg to your left. Even now you don't know who died and you turn to someone on your right and ask, "What's going on?"

The man turns to look at you with a strange look. "It's a funeral," he says bluntly. He said it as if it wounded his heart and soul.

"For who?"

"Akimichi Chouji."

That name rings a bell in your head, but you don't know who that name belongs to. You don't know what that person looks like.

Not yet.

"Did I know him?" you ask.

"I don't know," he says. "Why are you asking me?"

You shrug and notice how the crowd moves closer to the front. Everyone gets into separate lines to go up and pay their respects for the fallen ninja. There were some who knew Akimichi Chouji. There were some who didn't. But even so their sorrows were mixed – blended in one and shared with others to lessen the pain.

Everybody knew what it was like to lose someone. To the Sound or to another village... Another mission.

You don't know what it feels like.

Not yet.

* * *

A person that was once in front moves away and you walk up to the casket, ready to pay your respects. You do a quick bow and then look at the picture of that man – Akimichi Chouji – hoping to get a glimpse of the ninja who passed away on a Sunday.

And you know him.

He's that fat kid that you used to point and laugh at. That kid that you used to shove out of your ninja games. That kid that you used to pick on and tell him that he could never be a ninja. That he would never be that good. Images flash in your head one by one and yet no words or phrases come to your mind. You stare at the portrait, unable to do anything.

He's that kid that died.

He's that ninja that died on a Sunday.

* * *

"Keep on moving, kid." A gruff voice is directed at you and you reluctantly move along.

You find yourself next to that man before. You turn to look at him and now you see that he looks a lot like that kid. He looks like a spitting image of him and you wonder if they're related. You can't help but feel empty as you look into that man's eyes. You're confused of the feeling. You never knew Akimichi Chouji.

And then it strikes you like lightning.

You never knew Akimichi Chouji.

The man in front of you looks at you knowingly. "You knew him," he says. Your head snaps up from surprise at the statement.

"Yeah?" you reply. "I wish I could've known him better."

The man smiles – a smile that almost breaks your heart and peers into your soul.

"A lot of people think that sometimes."

A guilt pangs at your heart when he smiles at you like that. Did Akimichi Chouji ever have that smile? If so, you've never seen it. Slowly, but surely, a light grin comes to your face as well.

It would've been nice to see it.

You know what it feels like to lose someone.

* * *

It's a Sunday when you go to Akimichi Chouji's grave.

A week has passed since the ninja died and you find yourself staring down at the now un-fresh packed soil that covers the body of him. You just stand there for awhile, feeling the wind in your hair as you slowly sit down.

And then, you say nice three things about Akimichi Chouji.

"You were kind, gentle, and..." Your voice trails off for a moment, thinking of something else. At last you nod your head knowingly. "And you had a nice smile."

You've never really knew him, but you have a hunch that these things are true. It hurts you to think that you had said so many negative things to him back then.

"Sorry," you say to his grave. "I'm sorry."

You sit there for awhile longer before standing up. You go throughout the streets, seeing everybody continue with their life... and then you find yourself wandering to where you used to play that ninja game with your friends. You stand there, feeling the dust blow around you when the wind brings a breeze. You close your eyes as you imagine a little boy standing apart from the others in the corner, watching you as you have your fun.

Chouji was a kid… no – a ninja that you haven't talked to for years… Now that he's gone, you can't help but feel a crevice split into your mind. A stranger has died. His friends have stopped crying. Yet you – one person who has never befriended him before in your life – cannot get him out of your head. It's like a little part of you has fallen out.

You lift your head up to the sky and sit there for the entire day while letting the blue wash that part away…

… But you still remember the feeling.

* * *

**A/N.** Ah. I think the "you" is a bit annoying. Maybe I'll edit it into a real person's name next time. This is my first time doing that perspective, so comments and reviews are appreciated. This was rather short. XD

I don't know how many Chouji stories are out there, but the guy deserves to have some recognition. :)


End file.
